My Poet
by Matrix-Twin1
Summary: Jehan gets on R's nerves.mild slashy implications directed at Bahorel...


That damned poet is watching me again. Gods, but he's annoying. With that stupid, pitiful and pitying pout just sitting there on his face, half turned in his chair, openly staring. Enjolras coughs to regain his attention, before realizing that he's lost in yet another poetic fantasy. I don't know why he does it. Stupid boy. I glare at him. He cowers slightly, tugging at Combeferre's sleeve. Ferre glares back, reprimanding me. I shrug, like it's my fault…Sigh. The boy turns back to me, still clutching Ferre, who has resumed his rapturous attention of the speech at hand. I tap my foot, impatient and uncomfortable under this innocent gaze. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I turn to Courfeyrac, establish some suitably bawdy tale so that we can start talking, and we do, but eventually his attention wanders to Bahorel, he's almost drooling (and they say _I_ drool? If only they carried little mirrors like Joly.) as he watches that fiery little street-wrecker. I, too, am momentarily distracted. The man has nice muscles…But the poet is still watching!

I stand, pace a bit. They're used to me doing this, no one notices. Except him. He just sits there, and watches, and I can't stand it. I just can't. Finally, I sit back down. Courfeyrac is hitting on everyone in sight, just with his eyes, distracted. With a tiny gesture, I beckon Jehan to me. He shakes his head, in that pathetic, doe-like way of his, and just keeps watching. I've lost all track of anything Enjolras is saying, until I realize he's not saying anything. He's staring at me. They all are. He has this peculiar look, which takes me a second to recognize. Ah, it's the "what, no witty/nasty comment to throw at me, Winecask?" I shrug, amicably, and he continues. I close my eyes, and try to sleep. I feel the weight of his eyes on me, making me twitchy. Courfeyrac starts breathing on my neck. Without thinking, I slap him, full on the cheek. He looks utterly astonished, rubbing it, trying to make light of it, but his eyes are afraid. I clap him on the shoulder, grin and apologize. Enjolras looks scandalized. Oh, now what…I sigh again. He acts as though I've done some unspeakably cruel, irrevocable damage. No, that would be _lower_. The only thing that would stop that man, really…

They continue again, the boy is still staring. I look behind me, on the slight off-chance he's looking past me. There is a semi-interesting spot on the wall, which occupies my drunken attentions for a few moments, but I doubt that's it for him. No, he's watching me. A few more minutes. I stand, kneel beside his chair, looking up at him. He withdraws, pressing himself against Combeferre. Without looking, the other man wraps an arm around him, and Jehan relaxes, gazing at me with big, wide eyes. I want to poke them out, but only for an instant. In the barest of whispers, I ask, "Jehan?"

He gives an, it must be admitted, adorable "Oui?"

I sigh, but gently. "Why are you staring at me?"

"You're interesting. And…you help me understand!" He looks a little excited by this.

I weigh my options: ignore him and return to my seat (he's used to it by this time, people just wandering off. Gods, but that boy makes so little sense. Half the time…I'd swear he was just using words selected at random.) Or, actually bite and ask what he wants. I have nothing better to do, and can always back off later…I'll have to face that terrible hurt look, but I don't care. Really.

"I help you understand…what, exactly, Jehan?"

He gives a shy, embarrassed grin, before exclaiming, "The abased!"

Enjolras beams like he's just seen the second coming, and slams his hand down so hard on his little improvised podium that he flinches, before crying "Yes, Jehan, yes!" and continuing.

Jehan, blushing prettily at the attention this brings, waits for everyone to settle again, turning back to me. He repeats, more quietly, "The abased."

This proves he wasn't just answering some question of Enjolras'. Now I'm confused, not knowing if I should be insulted or not. I give a non-committal, "Oh?"

He nods, vigorously, blond tresses flopping all over the place. They remind me of dead fish, pale and limp and strange. I shake this thought away, discounting it for its bizarreness. "Oui. You help me understand…the abased…"

He notes my blank expression before continuing. "Well…you're abased, aren't you?"

I shrug, Enjolras is listening. If I claimed 'abasitude' for myself, he'd whip his little pack into tearing me apart. He watches me for an extra second, coolly, before resuming the speechifying.

Jehan acts as though I had agreed, and continues. "Oui, you're the abased. And…and…" he flashes a quick, worried glance to Combeferre, who is ignoring him, arm still wrapped around the smaller boy. "And they won't let me go anywhere with _real_ abased."

Again, I don't know whether or not to be insulted. However, I decide the word 'mean' isn't in Jehan's vocabulary, and decide not to be, smiling at him to continue.

"So…you're what I have. So I can understand everything Enjy says."

"Enjy?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I hadn't heard this name before, and savored the anticipation of finding just the right moment to use it.

He nods, prettily, and continues listening to the speech.

Useless boy.


End file.
